Feisty Quill is the brainchild of Christina Parkhurst Barber, a left-handed quasi-vegetarian (No beef or pork). I’m an “over-educated” creative writer, creative thinker, and singer-song writer of dubious musical talent. It’s not that dubious: I have sung the National Anthem a few times at Sacramento Kings games (which is pretty cool if you think about it). My over-educated self has a Master’s Degree in Communication Studies and a second Master’s Degree in Women’s Studies. However, is it possible to actually be “over-educated?” Hmm…
I love to laugh, dance, sing, and swim. My favorite place is the ocean, and I used to be a mermaid. Kidding, of course. In real life, I was a college professor for more than two decades, until I changed my life drastically, just prior to Covid. (Hallelujah!). I now devote myself to writing. I would still like to be a mermaid, but I don’t think it’s a real job. (How do I know, though? Just because I’ve never met a mermaid, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.)
I write Feisty Quill for the sheer joy of creativity, and to work on something other than my first novel, which is now in its fussy, second-draft stage. Because of that, I am only on Feisty Quill intermittently, because my darn book won’t edit itself. Shucks.
Every time I write, I simply sit down at my desk and let the muse take me where she will. It’s a blast. Sometimes it’s politics. Sometimes it’s hair. I even have an entry called “Politics and Hair.” More recently, I sometimes go to a dark place about death, because my Mom died in May 2022. Just for fun, a brain injury on September 14, 2023 knocked me out of commission for a year. My life is forever changed.
Both my Mom’s death and my brain injury broke me open and made me someone different. I’m healing, but I know I can’t ever be the “old me.” Since I keep getting older, though, I will continue to be the older me. (Groan). That said, there is nothing like a brain bleed to make a gal feel grateful to be alive. Every day. Something sparkly and tingly about almost dying makes me feel quite privileged to be upright on this Earth. Quite.
“My” cat owns me as well as owns my husband. It’s okay: he is the most beautiful cat anyone has ever seen. If he weren’t so shy, he would be an award-winning show cat. When I’m not writing, I am catering to his every demand. This includes such critical duties as brushing him, scratching under his chin, and behind his ears. I am privileged to do so, of course. (Fellow cat servants understand.) I do like dogs, too; I just don’t have one. Yap yap dogs are the exception–see May 2020. I don’t like those.
Like my cat, my husband also lovingly, inexplicably, tolerates me. We have now been married for 25 years, and I sometimes wonder why he puts up with my weird strangeness. (Strange weirdness?). Because he loves me, that’s why. I am so very fortunate. Again, grateful.
I believe in peace, love, and a sharp sense of sarcasm. Soft boiled eggs are pretty nice, too. I know that I see the world through my own strange lens. I have sick, gallows humor, and sometimes I am the only one laughing at my curious jokes. I don’t mind. However, I hope you will join me, and give a little chuckle from time to time. If so, please subscribe and comment on my blog often, share it with others, email me at feistyquill@gmail.com or meet me on Facebook. If you enjoy the Feisty Quill, please share, share, share. Thanks for reading!